


Falling into Place (Not Apart)

by honeyhoshi



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: 2D is pretty much more fucked up than in canon, 2D is younger than in canon, Alternate Universe, Angst, Depression, Even though he isn't even run over by Murdoc's car, Hyphema, Like only 14-15 when the fic catches up to when the gang first meet him., Mentions of Violence, Noodle is older than in canon, Russ and Mudz are the same ages as in canon, The chapters in this are short and sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 10:17:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6150343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyhoshi/pseuds/honeyhoshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sometimes, when life seems like it is falling apart, it might actually be falling into place." When they first found him, he had been half dead in a dirty, graffitied alleyway, singing softly. The group took the starved, blue-haired boy out of the alley to become a full-fledged band, and their life was never again the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Push (And Then We're Falling)

The fact that the boy has been destined to be different had made itself more and more apparent as he grew older. His parents had been of decent descent, made a decent income, and were decent parents. Overall though, they were very normal, and very paranoid of the abnormal. At first, their son was all they could have wanted; bright blue eyes who's hue captured the sky perfectly, angelic face, never too much of a pain. He was to be named Stuart, a good enough name for anyone.

Stuart got along well enough with his classmates and was popular enough with them. His looks were not sub-par, in fact, he was even a bit of a pretty boy. At an early age, his peers had silly little crushes on him. Stuart was good enough for his family and their semi-strict teachings.

That all changed with a push from a tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a story that I started originally on FF.net. After almost a year long break, I finally started up again on the fourth chapter. I will try and continue if I have enough time/get enough feedback. Any suggestions are welcome, however I will not be adding in any pairings. Thanks again for your time!


	2. A Push (And Then We're Falling)

They were a nobody band. No one knew them and no one cared.

They had all met in a small, unknown coffee shop that was, for some odd reason, the first place Russel visited after moving to England.

He had just had his best friends shot in front of his very eyes. Emotionally unstable and the near victim of a gang shooting, his parents had him be shipped off to live far away for his own 'protection'. At least, that was what they told him.

In reality, his parents had decided that they didn't want anything else to do with their son, who would most likely, and had already, brought more trouble than he had even been worth. He already had a particularly bad incident in his years in schooling where he almost killed a boy, which got kicked out of said school, and strayed into the 'vulgar' realm of rap after getting moved to a 'terrible' school. This was yet another bad incident, and it sealed his fate.

Mr. and Mrs. Hobbs had been wanting to get rid of him for awhile, and they felt like now was the perfect opportunity. They bought Russel a one-way plane ticket and sent him away under the pretense that 'the shooters might come back to finish the job'. They waved him off with their own happiness in mind.

Russel had a vague knowledge of his parent's hidden intentions, but he was too buried under his own grief to care. He boarded the plane and walked away from his parents in a daze, not aware that it was the last time he would ever see them.

He also was not aware that due to this deportation, he would form a band with some of the strangest people he had ever met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and hits! As I said in the previous chapter, if you have any critiques or requests for the story, feel free to comment them below.


	3. A Trip

A year after his relocation, Russell was walking through the once unfamiliar streets of England that he was slowly, but surely getting used to. People staring at his blank eyes all the while, he came across an unfamiliar coffee shop. Although the place screamed gross, his sleepy self begged him to walk inside the dilapidated joint. He had nothing else to do with his life at the moment, and he desperately needed caffein, so he walked towards it.

Inside said coffee shop, there was an employee named Miho Hatori. Miho was a foreign exchange student working a shitty job at a coffee shop with shitty coffee. The hours were long, the pay was bad, and, well, to say she didn't enjoy it would be an understatement.

"Noodle!", her co-workers called to her in an overly superior, mocking tone that they reserved only for her. She grumbled under her breath as she walked over to him, glaring for all it was worth. Just another thing she hated about the place; the workers were also all racist jerks.

When she first landed the job to help pay for her school expenses, the first thing they did when she introduced herself was laugh about her accent, and promptly give her the degrading nickname - Noodle. She had no problem with noodles, in fact, they were one of her favorite foods; it was the discriminatory intent that mattered.

She had been staying up all week studying, and her better judgement was fried under exhaustion. Thus, she stormed over to her snickering coworkers even though the better, more well-rested part of her told her not to.

"For the last time, my name is Hatori!" she said to the one who called out to her. She didn't offer her first name to them, as it would be just as impolite to call her Miho as it was to call her Noodle.

The man, named Josh, eyed her haughtily.

"Oh, I'm sorry Noodle." He sneered. "But you asians don't have the right to decide what your superiors call you."

This caused Miho to turn as red as a beet. This would be too much for even her regular, not-fried-under-exhaustion self. The other workers and most of the customers in the shop were laughing at her flushed face, and voicing their agreement.

Thus, she snapped.

"You racist, inconsiderate... bastard!" she screamed at him, accent flaring through in her rage but intent still perfectly clear. An angry hand slapped across his face that sent him onto the ground in an instant. Everyone froze in their tracks, sneers wiped off their faces as they gaped at the full grown man lying on the ground. He just laid there in shock after getting beat up by the tiny asian girl standing over him in one hit.

It was complete silence when the bell rang to signal a particularly drained Russel Hobbs walking through the front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are having a nice day! I'm still trying to flesh out the story with a lot of exposition. Hopefully we'll get to when 2D meets the gang soon. As always, a kudos is always nice to see that people are actually reading the fic. Thanks again for reading :)


	4. Blue

Blue.

It was a color he despised, a color that made him want to cry, scream, and puke simultaneously.

Blue. In all shades. Turquoise. Cyan. Ultramarine. Aquamarine.

He hated it so much, yearning for it to completely disappear from his life. He dreamed of better worlds where a blink of his eyes would eliminate the color from his plane of existence, where warm toned hues washed over his surroundings with pleasant sunlight, blanketing him with better tomorrows. When he regrettably woke, he spent his waking hours with reds and yellows flickering behind his eyes, whispering warmth in his skull.

Stuart would soon learn to be careful about what he wished for.

He laid on the ground, the taste of iron on his tongue, the smell apparent in his nose. Trails of thick red dripped lazily from his face, dying the azure of his hair a deep maroon. Hands would reach up to his swelling, shut eyes, only to hastily thud on the ground once more at the discovery of his own blood.

All he could think of was the older boys, once his friends, suddenly knocking him onto the ground. He somehow squeezed his eyes shut even more at the memory.

He had found long ago that he could not stand, could not open his eyes, could not even think. The pounding ache in his head made it impossible for coherent thoughts.

The low scream of sirens slowly rocked him to sleep, a slumber that would hold him in a mild coma for ten days.

When he awoke, it was heralded with his mother's screams.

His wish had been granted. Blue had been taken out of his life.

Where the crystalline color once reflected back, obsidian now swallowed the entirety of his eyes, sclera and iris alike. His vision was blurry at best, straight up nonexistent at worst. Everything seemed to hold a gray tinge, leeching the blue straight out of the sky peeking through the windows. The absence of the color was nothing like what he imagined. It didn't hold the warmth of blazing campfires and portable heaters that he had dreamed of.

It felt cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! Again, a quick kudos really makes my day. Hugs and kisses to everyone :)


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